


You're Not Making Any Sense

by watcherofworlds



Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Post-Episode: s03e20 The Fallen, Prompt Fill, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watcherofworlds/pseuds/watcherofworlds
Summary: Prompt fill for Whumptober Day 24 "You're Not Making Any Sense"
Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956160
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	You're Not Making Any Sense

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by Sara's mention of having spent time training blindfolded in the League. I assumed Oliver would have undergone similar training, and this is what came out of that.

“You’re relying too much on your eyes!” Ra’s’ voice boomed out from the darkness that was all Oliver could see with the blindfold that was tied over his eyes, accompanied by a sudden sharp pain that made him cry out and his leg buckle, driving him down to one knee on the floor. “You must learn to see with your other senses! An assassin must be able to find their way in places that their targets cannot, and as my heir I expect you to excel!” Oliver gritted his teeth and forced himself to get his feet back under him and stand up. This reminded him of nothing so much as his training sessions with Slade back on the island, not least because Ra’s’ tendency to call him “boy” brought to mind comparisons to how Slade used to call him “kid”.

He found it oddly comforting. Al Sah-Him was a role he was still getting used to, Demon’s Head and Heir to the Demon was a relationship dynamic he was still figuring out, but student and teacher, master and apprentice, was familiar. Something he understood.

“Good!” Ra’s called out, apparently seeing him get to his feet and deciding that his unwillingness to quit pleased him. “Now let’s go again!” There was a moment of silence, then Oliver heard footsteps on stone as Ra’s came at him again. He tilted his head to the side, trying to pinpoint the location of the sound and determine which direction Ra’s was coming at him  _ from _ , but he wasn’t fast enough, and he felt a flash of pain in his arm as Ra’s slashed him with his sword as punishment for failing, once again, to learn the lesson he was trying to teach him. He heard Ra’s retreat, then come at him again, and again he tried to dodge or at least parry his attack, and again he failed, earning himself another sword wound.

By the time Ra’s finally called a halt, what felt like hours later, Oliver could feel that he was bleeding from a dozen different places, each of the wounds Ra’s had given him stinging fiercely.

_ Talk about death by a thousand cuts _ , he thought bitterly, reaching behind his head to untie the blindfold over his eyes. Immediately, something smacked his hands away. The flat of Ra’s’ sword blade, it felt like.

“I didn’t tell you you could take your blindfold off, boy,” Ra’s snarled. “This training extends far beyond combat. I told you that an assassin must be able to find their way when their targets cannot. There are senses other than sight, and you are going to wear that blindfold until you have learned to see with them as well as you do with your eyes.” Oliver clenched his jaw against the protest that leapt to his tongue. Al Sah-Him may have only been a role he was playing, but playing it effectively meant complying unquestioningly with Ra’s Al Ghul’s orders.

“As my lord commands,” he said in an intentionally flat, almost robotic voice, bowing in the direction Ra’s’ voice had come from before carefully making his way from the room still blindfolded and therefore deprived of one of his senses.


End file.
